[Omega, Tarnaigo's Diner] Biotic's and Poverty Make a Poor Match (Open)

Tarnaigo's wasn't Styia's first choice for lunch. Or even the last, really. But the place was mostly clean (no one could see the kitchen to truly tell but that was a risk of Omega). The food was decent (and plentiful) and was unlikely to give one food poisoning. But most importantly of all it was cheap. The perfect place for a starving biotic freelancer with few credits to her name after a bout of constant bad luck when it came to jobs and capped off with her nearly having an eye gouged out by a vorcha not too long ago.

Hopefully she'd catch that bastard of a salarian. That's turn her luck around. But she'd had no luck in that hunt yet either.

Sitting alone in her own little area the robed turian angrily tapped a talon against the table. She had been waiting for what felt like forever over her order. It was getting ridiculous. How long could it possibly take to cook a few louza eggs and whatever meat was substituting for xemna back there?

Another flaw of Tarnaigo's. The service was shit.

The small diner was starting to get packed now. Wouldn't be too long and she'd have to share her table with other customers. Hopefully by then she'd have her food at least and maybe even the people would be interesting enough to be worth it.

"I miss the old Omega." Ren thought, picking at dried food on the counter next to his drink. Sure, it still had the same old run-down, crowded feel to it in places like this, but it wasn't the same kind of loud anymore. He leaned his elbow on the counter and turned to the room. More and more alien heads seemed to be showing up in front of the dull brown walls. There was chatter - ambient dialogues humming throughout the diner. Nothing like the same aggressive rumble that the station always had a few years ago.

A plate clattered down beside him as the Asari waitress walked past. Ren leaned over the bar and watched her walk away with a slight smile spreading on his face. "Thank you..." he said to himself. "I guess some things are better."

He picked at his food, immediately regretting his words. It wasn't bad, but he shouldn't have ordered human in a place like this. An alien dropped clumsily down in the seat next to him, bumping his drink. A tiny splash fell from the glass, and Ren shot a glare at the new Turian, who paid no attention as he continued to talk to his friend.

"Great. One of these." Ren said with a sour tone. Grabbing the drink away from the Turian's arm, he could almost hear that old aggressive rumble coming back. His crew was busy at the docks for another half hour. Half an hour that he'd have to spend surrounded by these people.

Baram was sitting in his usual spot, back to a wall in the corner of the establishment, watching the room. Not to say he had ever been to Tarnaigo's before, but every diner, resteraunt, and cafe had a booth like that. The batarian was wearing his usual, utilitarian vest and pants, covered by his long dust cloak. His metal arms were covered by said cloak, save for the hands cupping his mug of coffee.

He wasn't actively hunting the salarian bounty posted on CDN the other day, but he had downloaded the profile and studied it like a good bounty hunter. It certainly couldn't hurt to grab a little extra money here and there while he was away from Valkar. This, however, was just breakfast.

A waitress came by, quickly and haphazardly refilled his coffee. He barely had time to mutter "Thank you." before she was gone again. Oh well. It had taken way too long to get his coffee refilled so he was just happy for that. Metal fingers clicked against the coffee cup as he took a drink, and leaned back, wondering just when his breakfast was actually going to arrive.

Slythe walked in hesitantly, carefully, quietly into the resteraunt. He turned his head this way and that, taking in all of the sights. Of course, he had been here before on many an uneventful occassion, but you never know. Sometimes, the most fascinating things could be found in the most mundane places.

Nothing obvious yet. Just people, people, people. Each and every one of them with their own little story. And oh, there were even a few customers of his. He would have to avoid them; he hadn't come here for business after all. Just a quick bite alone. And yet...that seemed as if it would prove to be very difficult.

Most of the tables had already been filled in, and the ones that weren't were very close to those his customers were at. He really had no desire to interact with them for now, at all. He had no interest in their lives.

He spotted a table whose only table was a robed turian, sitting quietly besides that tapping talon of hers. She would do.

Slythe slithered into the seat, careful not to accidentally touch or irritate the turian. He sat across from her without a word, simply looking down at his black-gloved hands on the table.

His most noticeable feature was likely the sleek, black respirator covering the lower half of his face. It fit his slender face nicely, wrapping around his high cheekbones and resting only a tiny distance away from the large, dark bags under his soft, brown eyes. Even with the machinery, it was a very smooth, feminine face and could have been said to be rather pretty. Black hair was slicked back and he wore a simple black coat over a somewhat unbuttoned, crimson dress shirt. Stains, grit, and dust gave his once-fancy clothes that ol' Omega touch though.

For now, he said nothing. He simply continued to look down at his gloved hands, which had just begun tapping a simple, well-known little tune on the table. The waiter hadn't come yet, and he doubted they would anytime soon.

Styia glanced over at her new guest, her blue eyes showing underneath her hood slightly. That was an interesting look at least. Though it seemed... impractical for eating. Anything else about his features she couldn't really say. Humans weren't her type afterall. But he was dressed nicely it seemed. Far better than her and her rapidly falling apart robe that looked to have been patched up again and again.

"You're going to be here awhile, human", She said. Faking a turian smile underneath her hood. "So we might as well have a civil conversation while we wait shouldn't we?" she chuckled lowly. "So if I might ask, 'friend'. What is with the respirator? Worried about the air here? Its breathable I assure you"

The human looked up when the turian spoke. His eyes widened a bit when the first thing he saw was a hint of her blue eyes. When she chuckled, a smile showed in his own eyes. How wonderful to sit next to someone who would start a conversation with a stranger. This could be nice. She could have done a better job on the smile though.

He chuckled with a hidden grin at her last comment, although the sound that came out through the respirator was that of something scraping and grinding. Hardly a lovely sound to most. "I know, I know it's breathable." His voice didn't match his face. The respirator had taken what was likely a soft and gentle voice and turned it into something that sounded broken. Horribly, horribly broken, but intact enough to let scattered pieces of a lovely voice make it through the noise of a machine. "The air's good enough for breathing, but i'm just not very..." He looked around at the various customers. "...fond...of letting certain stenches go into my system. I would simply rather not. I hope that doesn't come off as snobbish, I don't mean to offend, especially since no offending scents are coming from you, i'm sure. No, wait, was that too condescending? I'm sorry." He looked away out of embarrassment, a tiny blush of such embarrassment tinting his cheeks.

He spoke with a tone of curiousity with multiple glances at the turian's clothing."What of you? Not very often I see turians of any gender wearing robes. Do you enjoy wearing it or is there perhaps some formal gala you are attending?" He perked up at the mention of a formal anything, his glances lasting longer and longer.

Ren kept eating for a few minutes before the Turian next to him bumped his plate, knocking his food around again.

"Sorry." The Turian said over his shoulder, going right back to his conversation.

"I'm done anyway." Ren said. After the Turian turned back to his conversation, he picked up the last little bit of his meal from the plate, and set it inside the bowl-shaped carapace around the alien's neck.

The Turian's seat shot out behind him as he jumped up, grabbing around his neck to pull whatever it was away. "What the hell, human? What's your problem?"

Ren smiled. "No problem here, claws. I just thought you might want to have the rest of my shit on you."
The people around them got quieter, and eased away from the two. The Turian's friend, a Salarian, stood up behind him, looking a little nervous.

"Asshole."

He laughed as eyes around the bar looked towards the new noise. "You've got no idea, buddy."

"You are very weird, human", Styia said matter of factly, her voice smooth and calm. She wasn't really afraid of the human despite his... eccentricities. Fear was something that had been beaten out of her in the abyss and Reaper War. "And I can assure you that my 'scent' is just like everyone elses. But if its that bad, maybe you should have that nub on your face you call a nose inspected. Its disadvantageous. Hopefully I am not 'condescending' though", if she could smirk like a human she would certainly be doing so now.

Her eyes shifted slightly at the little altercation at the bar, taking particular notice of a salarian (interesting) that looked familiar before shifting back to her dinner guest.

"No. Nothing formal I am afraid. My wardrobe is rather limited at the moment and this old thing is all I have at the moment", she chuckled again. Deliberately failing to mention her robe was hiding her old, battered suit of armor. Deception was important, especially in the Abyss and Terminus.

"Why do you ask, 'friend'?"

Baram noted the altercation with muted interest, human, turian, salarian. Although the salarian seemed nervous and disinclined to join anything that actually kicked off.

Interesting. He also noted across the diner, someone he had met at the CDN meet and greet not too long ago. Small station, this was. He took another drink of his coffee, and kept a watch over the developing situation between the irritated turian and human parties at the bar.

The Turian was starting to look mad now, and Ren was clearly enjoying it. "Want me to tell the waitress that this meal's on you?" he prodded, laughing at himself.

After a lengthy glare, they finally replied. "I'd rather you grab your things and leave."

Ren stood up slowly, and leaned forward. "Are we not friends now?" he asked, his voice hardly above a whisper.

"We are not."

"Oh." he said simply. Before the Turian could react Ren cocked a punch and hit him in the face, sending him reeling into the arms of his Salarian friend. The crowd around them erupted, with people moving in from all directions to put distance between them. After just a couple seconds, Ren couldn't see the two anymore. "Fuck!" he said, shaking his hand after the hit. It sure was easy to forget how hard those faceplates were.

It wasn’t often that someone treated any assertion of weirdness a fact. He had certainly been called “very weird” before, but now it sounded as if it had been officially stated. Wonderful.

He wished she could see the smile on his face after she spoke. It would have to show through his tone of amusement for now, as distorted as it was. “Oh, I think you’re doing just -“

He glanced at the burst of noise near him, his expression not changing a bit. Unfortunately, nothing more than just an insult or two. He looked back at the turian the same time she did to him, his eyebrow twitching ever slightly upwards at her last word.

"Ah. I see." His amused expression faltered, if only for a moment. "Well. Well, I hope you do find some more clothes soon, having little more than a robe can be quite unpleasant. I...yes. Well, why I ask is a bit, uh, foolish, I suppose. Uh. Um. " He turned his head a bit and a small chuckle came out. A blush? "I had been hoping that perhaps there had been some sort of formal event going on. A foolish thing to imagine in Omega, in hindsight. I rather like such events. Have you ever been to any, 'friend'?"

Styia's head snapped over to the altercation, food and conversation temporarily forgotten as watched. Now that was what she loved about Omega. Before turning back to Slythe.

Now where did that salarian go I wonder?

"No. I can't say that I have." She said. Still staring at the unfolding incident. Her eyes taking on a look not far from a predator that has spotted prey "They look very... boring I would say. No excitement. Why would anyone waste their time there? Why would you waste your time there?"

She had given up hope her food would come. But it looked like something more interesting was about to happen in this shitty restaurant soon and maybe, just maybe, she would be much richer afterwards if her suspicions were correct.

Well, that rumble was definitely back. Ren struggled to break away from the people trying to pull him back, and made his way outside before the Turian and his friend got out of the crowd. He wasn't interested in the part where the other guy tried to hit him back, anyway.

Nearly outside, he threw a quick look back and caught the eyes of the Turian. He was looking a little bit dizzy as his friend held him upright. With a goofy smile on his face he gave the alien a mock-salute, with his now-sore hand, and turned to the door.

"That's one way to skip paying." he said to himself. The door slid open in front of him as he rubbed his knuckles again.

"Oh, they are boring if you look at it a certain way, but they're fun if you look at it in another. A lot can happen in such an event. Intriguing discussions, making new friends, managing a business deal, it can be quite eventful. Of course, I guess that without any fights or real action, it can be boring to most. Boring to, perhaps, someone with a more aggressive and hands-on approach to life, such as yourself."

He cocked his head to the side, his wide eyes filled with curiosity and interest. "I can only imagine that you have some sort of special gear in there", he said in a hushed tone. He kept his eyes on hers, although the latter were focused on the altercation. "You don't seem like the type to take things personally, so I imagine that a certain salarian here is worth a bit of credits if caught. Judging from that look in your eyes though, I doubt that anyone else will manage to snatch up the prey." He kept his voice hushed, but some trace of excitement was clearly in it.

"Are you planning to go after him now? Or are you not sure that you've yet found the right target? There's already been one fight; I doubt this place will tolerate another."

Well, that was definitely a thing. He watched the punch being thrown, and readied himself for trouble in case a minor altercation between two people spiraled out into a diner-wide brawl. When it didn't happen, at least immediately, he relaxed slightly. He watched the human dodge out of the building with one set of eyes while the other remained focused on the turian's salarian friend, now supporting the dizzy looking turian.

He decided to down his last cup of coffee, and get up and walk over to the bar, just a few seats away from the salarian and turian cople. He sidled up, and ordered a drink from the barkeep, before glancing at the pair and giving a grumbled, if fake, complaint. "Humans, huh? Little upstart bastards." He kept one set of eyes on the turian, and one studied the salarian. Taking in the details, trying to see if he matched a certain bounty poster. Something about him had caught his eye, of course. But who knows? Acting a little suspicious didn't automatically make it THAT salarian.